Where do you buy crutches? I’ve never seen them in Argos or Currys and they are the only two shops I go in so I accept that I’m no expert in this area. Can you get them online?
An idea came to me this morning after noticing something. A lady gets on the train at my station with a walking stick. It’s only a simple every day walking stick but she holds it in a way that suggests she really needs it. This lady is no rambler carrying her brand new Leki Wanderfreund Antishock Walking Pole freshly delivered from Blacks and unable to resist mentioning how much better it is that a normal stick every other mile.
Everything about this lady’s stance says “I need this stick as I clearly am in a bit of pain or have dodgy toes that stop me balancing”. The effect of this is immediate. A few times I’ve been stood in direct competition with her to get on the train first. We both know where the doors will open and so stand with steely determination. I’ve discussed both the art of trying to stand in the right place for the doors and also my inability to say no to Grannies etc. before so I won’t go into that here. None the less my train is pretty full and so getting on through the doors ahead of the pack is vital in seat acquisition. Time and time again there will be one person in front of me who will board the train and then pick the most covered up seat to sit in even though there are seats ahead of them where they could sit straight down. The person already sat down will take forever moving their stuff and only when they have finished doing all that will the new arrival start sorting themselves out. They wait and wait and wait before starting taking their coat off and fishing about in their bag.
Whilst my train boarding nemesis takes an hour to sit down all I can do is watch as the people who got on the train from the other end of the carriage fill up the seats, walking right up to the easily accessed empty seat in front of the one this idiot has insisted on sitting on because it was the first one he saw. The despair of seat loss, instantly demolishes any optimism for a great day at work that I may otherwise have held.
To get slowly back to the point, as I was saying, getting on the train first is fairly high on my agenda in the mornings. This lady, the one with the walking stick, has on a couple of occasions been in direct line with me on the starting blocks. Of course as the doors unlock she swiftly holds her stick theatrically in front of her and winces as she goes to step forward. Naturally I step aside and let her on, how could I not? Then she jumps on the train like a gazelle and heads off down the carriage faster than Paula Radcliffe. By the time I’ve boarded the train she is already sat down somewhere with a full spread of drink and sandwiches that she has somehow found time to get from the buffet and a beginners guide to parkour in her hand.
Having seen her successfully push three places in the line again this morning to another bunch of unsuspecting commuters by audibly groaning when she had to lean her weight on her leg to pick up her bag, the time is nigh for action. I clearly can’t copy her and buy a walking stick. A walking stick would just make her my equal but then she would pull the lady card out of the bag. I would have to let her on in a gentleman’s fashion. In order to beet this cunning commuting con artist I’m going to have to bring out the big guns. I need to have a full on crutch. It needs to declare in big bold letters that here stands a man clinging on to life by a thread. This man nearly dies snow boarding off-piste after the downdraft from the helicopter that dropped him caused an avalanche. I need one of those false foot plasters to complete the image.
Surely once I am stood there like this my foe will have to back off and let me on? She can’t possibly claim a gammy foot is more important than a fracture metatarsal gained whilst rescuing the lives of seven Swiss chalet maids and a Saint Bernard. It’s definitely worth a try.
Mind you she might just actually be in pain and genuinely need the stick.
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